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Say what you will about De Palma, but please don't compare him to Spielberg.

The chess game in Blade Runner bothers me because, like other movie chess games (Les Visiteurs du soir and Independence Day are two examples), one player makes a move and announces "Checkmate" to the total surprise of the other player. Tyrell is a genius but he can't spot mate in one?

Robotron wrote:Say what you will about De Palma, but please don't compare him to Spielberg.

I was merely repeating what others have confided in me.
I like neither.

Kinsayder wrote:The chess game in Blade Runner bothers me because, like other movie chess games (Les Visiteurs du soir and Independence Day are two examples), one player makes a move and announces "Checkmate" to the total surprise of the other player. Tyrell is a genius but he can't spot mate in one?

Along with fake piano-playing, which I've mentioned before in this thread, this is another one of my big pet peeves. I guess it's for dramatic effect or simply to demonstrate that the characters are indeed playing chess, but you're right: virtually every chess game in the movies involves somebody either saying "check" or "checkmate." The only two exceptions I can think of off the top of my head are The Seventh Seal (obviously because the chess game continues throughout the entire film) and, more amusingly, The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer.

I also get annoyed when the filmmakers have set up the board itself incorrectly. The square on the far right-hand side of your own back rank (where your rook sits at the beginning of the game) should be white. It's black in Preminger's Angel Face, for example.

miless wrote:The worst continuity I've ever seen is in Carrie... I really dislike De Palma, but that's beside the point.

It's is when Carrie shatters the mirror with her mind and it falls to pieces... and then, in the next shot, is her reflection in the shattered mirror (somehow the pile of glass had re-assembled itself in a split second)...

The other thing I hate about the movie (other than the whole movie itself) is that when she's covered in the pig's blood it goes from a wee little stripe down her front to FULL DRIPPING COVERAGE in a few shots...

That's one of many, many things I love about De Palma. Fucked up continuity and I don't consider it a flaw when it comes to his films.

Kinsayder wrote:The chess game in Blade Runner bothers me because, like other movie chess games (Les Visiteurs du soir and Independence Day are two examples), one player makes a move and announces "Checkmate" to the total surprise of the other player. Tyrell is a genius but he can't spot mate in one?

His surprised look could be explained by either:
A. being unexpectedly and quickly beaten by the otherwise inferior Sebastian.
B. the realization that it is Batty, or at least one of the escaped replicants, that he has been playing against.

Much depends on the line reading "you had better come up."

Mr_sausage wrote:His surprised look could be explained by either:
A. being unexpectedly and quickly beaten by the otherwise inferior Sebastian.
B. the realization that it is Batty, or at least one of the escaped replicants, that he has been playing against.

Much depends on the line reading "you had better come up."

I'm sure it's not B: Tyrell wouldn't knowingly invite one of the renegade replicants into his home, even for a game of chess. A seems likely, though. Tyrell thinks he's playing Sebastian, whose style he knows, so it doesn't occur to him that Batty's penultimate move, which seems like an empty threat and reckless self-sacrifice, might conceal a killer blow.

In any case, Ridley Scott had good reasons for choosing this particular chess game.

The scenes in István Szabó's Mephisto which show events for which Hendrik Hoefgen (Klaus Maria Brandauer) is not present bug me. The three scenes that I recall that do this are inconsequential: the first scene is unnecessary to the storyline (a minor character providing physical training to boys) and the other two are understood to have occurred without having to actually be seen (Gestapo agents running Henrik's girlfriend out of Germany, and one shows the extra-legal execution of one of the characters). Their inclusion detracts from the strength of the film as a whole because the rest of the film is so narrowly-focused on Hoefgen's direct experiences and their effect on his character.

Kinsayder wrote:The chess game in Blade Runner bothers me because, like other movie chess games (Les Visiteurs du soir and Independence Day are two examples), one player makes a move and announces "Checkmate" to the total surprise of the other player. Tyrell is a genius but he can't spot mate in one?

Not every game ends after a drawn out king chase around an empty board. Even the greatest players get caught by surprise (especially after gambits involving sacrifices w queens, castles, etc): the BR scene simply captures the last 2 moves of a given game. It's got to happen at some point, no?

My nitpick was that Tyrell (like other movie chess players) seems to be taken aback by the final move. I'm only a mediocre player myself, but wouldn't an expert like Tyrell see the mate before his opponent actually plays and announces it?

I agree here. I find it pretty annoying too.

"Check" - Surprised expression - I can understand.

'Checkmate' - Surprise - seems to be pushing things a bit far unless you're playing someone without much experience of chess or the checkmater cheated (like Death in the seventh seal).

Or maybe I'm wrong. Any chess masters out there been checkmated without ever seeing it coming?

Sanjuro wrote:Or maybe I'm wrong. Any chess masters out there been checkmated without ever seeing it coming?

It can happen, but obviously, the more experienced/brilliant a player is, the less likely it is. It's been years since I've seen the movie, but is it a back-rank mate? That's a particular Achilles Heel of many good intermediate players; they get so wrapped up in a complicated coordinated attack on the opposing player that they miss a simple coup de grâce from an overlooked rook.

But when you're talking about grandmasters, it very rarely occurs. That's why so many of the top-flight games end with one player resigning -- they see defeat coming a good five moves away and realize they can't do anything to stop it.

EDIT: Just found this interesting article on chess in the movies from BBC News. Here's a particularly relevant paragraph that repeats what I think were some of the initial objections to how chess gets used rather ham-handedly in movies:

But for the "chess in movies" enthusiasts there are problems. Many positions are wrongly set-up with pieces in places they cannot be. Characters playing are always saying "check" to illustrate a dramatic point. But most of all aficionados like to sniff at the regularity with which the board has a black square on the right. In chess the board is always set up with the white square on the right.

I also learned from this article that the game in Blade Runner is, in fact, a variation on a famous/historic game known as the "Immortal Game," which is an example of back-rank mate (though not with a rook). Apparently, Scott's choice of this particular game feeds into the themes of the film. (Additional edit: Just realized that Kinsayder had posted a similar link earlier in this thread. I guess I missed it before.) The historical game is actually a pretty good example of someone sacrificing major pieces to lull the opposing player into a false sense of confidence. As the Wikipedia article points out, however, the style of play that made it such a surprise in 1851 no longer exists among top-flight players.

At any rate, what makes games like the "Immortal Game" so famous is the rarity with which they occur among really good players. So it appears that it's a case of Scott using a game for thematic/symbolic reasons rather than for realism. (Of course, he doesn't have to be realistic. After all, it's only nerds like us who are going to notice tiny flaws or illogicalities.)

Just to defend Carrie, since I guess somebody should...

miless wrote:It's is when Carrie shatters the mirror with her mind and it falls to pieces... and then, in the next shot, is her reflection in the shattered mirror (somehow the pile of glass had re-assembled itself in a split second)...

Surely the point is that she uses her telekinetic powers to put the mirror back together? If I remember rightly, she smashes the mirror, her mother comes up to see what's happened, Carrie uses her powers to hold the door closed, then says 'It's open' and the mother comes in - Carrie pretends nothing has happened, then when her mother leaves she looks up at the reconstructed mirror. It's not a continuity error - the scene shows first how Carrie's rage creates her telekinetic powers, and how she is learning to harness these powers with more and more skill. Hence her total control over the gymnasium (especially the doors) in the prom scene.

The blood coverage thing is a little troubling at first, but since they obviously went out of their way to make Spacek look that bloody, they must have known this was a continuity error - and must not have cared. This is the kind of error the film-makers themselves couldn't have missed, and in this instance it's surely obvious that De Palma was trying to achieve a certain effect, in the way of which petty concerns about continuity should not have been allowed to stand.

Remember that this is not a realistic scene: the way the blood suddenly soaks the entirety of Carrie's body resembles the way she then perceives the entire prom audience to be against her, unaware that the real culprits have already left. From this point on, we are to a great extent seeing things from Carrie's own twisted perspective.

Scorsese is similarly unconcerned about matching shots up; because what matters is not whether the shots match, but whether they cohere into a dramatically satisfying sequence. Which, for my money, the prom scene in Carrie does.

Sloper wrote:Surely the point is that she uses her telekinetic powers to put the mirror back together? If I remember rightly, she smashes the mirror, her mother comes up to see what's happened, Carrie uses her powers to hold the door closed, then says 'It's open' and the mother comes in - Carrie pretends nothing has happened, then when her mother leaves she looks up at the reconstructed mirror. It's not a continuity error - the scene shows first how Carrie's rage creates her telekinetic powers, and how she is learning to harness these powers with more and more skill. Hence her total control over the gymnasium (especially the doors) in the prom scene.

The way I remember it was that Carrie shattered the mirror with her mind and the camera panned down to show it in pieces. Then, it cut to a shot of Carrie's reflection in the shattered mirror. There was no action between these two shots.

Pretty sure it cuts straight from the mirror smashing to the mother downstairs stopping her sewing. You don't see Carrie again until the mother enters her room. But it's been a while...

Not being a player, I'm not really in a position to comment on the verisimilitude of the sudden checkmate, but I think we can agree that it's a bit of an overused verbal device in cinematic chess scenes. I can remember only a few times where people are playing and the realization that one or the other players is closing in on their opponent is commented upon.

In a similar vein...anyone leaving (or entering) the solar system somehow always manages to pass several recognizable planets along the way, as if they're conveniently lined up for viewing in their various orbits.

Mine comes from one of my favorite films of all time, Shichinin no samurai. During the final battle scene in the monsoonal downpour, the Bandit Chief manages to kill two of the samurai with a matchlock musket.

Even in a light rain, it was virtually impossible to use one of those guns due to either the gunpowder becoming wet or the smoldering wick being extinguished.

I'm actually glad this thread was ressurrected because I kept forgetting to put:

the scene in GODFATHER 1 where Michael is being driven to the sitdown in Louie's Restaurant in the Bronx w the Turk & the cop. They're to trying to lose any potential tails by seemingly going to Jersey first... on a bridge thats supposed to be a stand in for the GWB I guess (but looks to these seasoned NYC eyeballs suspiciously like the Bx-Manhattan Third Ave or Willis Ave bridges... may even be the Triboro arm down into Randall's or Wards Island) the driver "Lou" does a quick move where he does a total 180 from the westbound/Jerseybound side to the eastbound back-to-NYC side.

Watch the long shot as the stunt drivers execute this move. The car w Mike is in the far/slow lane, and needs to cross in front of a car just next to them going in the same direction in the fast lane, to get across the middle divider and over to the other side. The stunt driver of the car next to the Turk's car slows almost to a stop before the Turks car even pulls his surprise move and begins to skid across in front of him. It moves by your yeballs pretty quickly... but once you become aware of it it looks so fucking staged and retake-poor.

Why do filmmakers feel obligated to insert a meow into any shot involving a cat, no matter how incidental the cat is? Very few cats run around meowing constantly, and they usually meow at something - so when a meow is inserted over the shot, it's clear that the cat isn't meowing at all. It would be a pet peeve of mine if it wasn't so absurdly arbitrary and therefore oddly hilarious. I noticed this in The 400 Blows and Mon Oncle recently, to name just two.

As an antidote to that, check out the beginning of The Long Goodbye, which must be one of the best performances by a cat ever captured on film. Altman completely respects the cat-ness of the cat and its specific relationship with Marlowe.

bunuelian wrote:Why do filmmakers feel obligated to insert a meow into any shot involving a cat, no matter how incidental the cat is? Very few cats run around meowing constantly, and they usually meow at something - so when a meow is inserted over the shot, it's clear that the cat isn't meowing at all. It would be a pet peeve of mine if it wasn't so absurdly arbitrary and therefore oddly hilarious. I noticed this in The 400 Blows and Mon Oncle recently, to name just two.

Not, apparently, if you have or know anyone who has a Siamese. These fucking things meow to signal every calorie digested, every micromillimeter of hair grown, every heartbeat, every gut blurble, every repositioning of the shit advancing round the corners of their intestinal tract, every new molecule of carbon dioxide escaping a fucking throat. My old lady has one, and it's a skwawk box so rampant it'll drive you to long loving stares at hammers, kitchen knives, high windows... especially when getting it on or at five inna morning snatching that last hour of sleep from you announcing "FEED ME I'M A BIG LOUD ASSHOLE!"

ANyone SIamese-afied knows what I mean I'm sure. And has had the corresponding encounters with the usual fantasies of Siamfelinocide.

bunuelian wrote:Why do filmmakers feel obligated to insert a meow into any shot involving a cat, no matter how incidental the cat is? Very few cats run around meowing constantly, and they usually meow at something - so when a meow is inserted over the shot, it's clear that the cat isn't meowing at all. It would be a pet peeve of mine if it wasn't so absurdly arbitrary and therefore oddly hilarious. I noticed this in The 400 Blows and Mon Oncle recently, to name just two.

you should submit that to Ebert's Glossary.

zedz wrote:As an antidote to that, check out the beginning of The Long Goodbye, which must be one of the best performances by a cat ever captured on film. Altman completely respects the cat-ness of the cat and its specific relationship with Marlowe.

I watched that for the first time about two weeks back, and was very impressed with the cat. Really.

Lemmy Caution wrote:

zedz wrote:As an antidote to that, check out the beginning of The Long Goodbye, which must be one of the best performances by a cat ever captured on film. Altman completely respects the cat-ness of the cat and its specific relationship with Marlowe.

I watched that for the first time about two weeks back, and was very impressed with the cat. Really.

Is it as good as the dog in White Dog? (Seriously, I don't want to take this too off topic, especially since dogs have their own thread...)

bunuelian wrote:Why do filmmakers feel obligated to insert a meow into any shot involving a cat, no matter how incidental the cat is? Very few cats run around meowing constantly, and they usually meow at something - so when a meow is inserted over the shot, it's clear that the cat isn't meowing at all. It would be a pet peeve of mine if it wasn't so absurdly arbitrary and therefore oddly hilarious. I noticed this in The 400 Blows and Mon Oncle recently, to name just two.

In a similar way, any shot with a cyclist passing through it gets a tring-tring sound added to the soundtrack. I think it's called OFGS (Over-active Foley Guy Syndrome).